Mismatched

We have all been on those dates that we know from the very beginning or soon after that it's doomed. We wonder, how the heck do we get out of it? How do we walk away and keep some bit of dignity intact? How do we conclude the date without causing a scene or ill feelings?

It's the guy who obsesses about himself and doesn't seem to notice his companion nodding off as he drones on and on. He obsesses with impressing his date with his job, wealth, etc. that he has no clue he has the opposite effect. A guy who enjoys alcohol or drugs so much that her discomfort doesn't even register. I have had my share of them. Let me share one in particular. Keep in mind, this is before cell phones, so there was no chance of making a call to be saved.

This happened while I studied (I use the term loosely) at Columbia. I was a little sister to a fraternity. A fundraiser was coming up for a rival fraternity. Bob had wanted to take me out for a long time. Finally, I agreed to go to the rival's fundraiser with him. We talked on the way out to the farm to the fundraiser. Bob had an interesting object hanging from his rearview mirror.

"What's that?" I asked him as I pointed to it.

"It's my roach clip," he said as he looked over at me.

My eyes opened wide. Say what? Holy crap! I couldn't believe he had it hanging out there for all to see, including the police who could choose to pull him over. I didn't do pot or any other drug. I didn't want to date anyone who did either. I knew I was doomed. Was he going to smoke it while on the date? Did he have any in the car? Oh my God! What if the police pulled us over? Visions of swirling police lights and wailing sirens passed before my eyes.

I was from a conservative home. My father preached against drugs. I had seen the results of using pot from family members and high school friends.

Bob reassured me, "I don't have any in the car. I didn't smoke any before I picked you up either." Somehow that didn't make me feel any better. I was still uncomfortable with that roach clip ominously swaying like a pendulum as we drove down that bumpy road of a date. It reminded me of the pendulum slowly descending with each swing in Poe's story.

He kept glancing over at me to see if I was okay. I wasn't, but there wasn't much that I could do since we were driving out in the middle of nowhere bound for a farm that catered to fraternities for fundraisers and social events.

We arrived early to a well-lit barn. There were few cars in the parking area. No one from Bob's fraternity was there as of yet. There were plenty of the rival fraternity members. Neither of us had anything to eat before we left to go there. Bob decided to drink and drink. It wasn't something simple like beer. It was all the college rage back then as the poor college student's drink of choice - Mad Dog and white soda. It's a pretty color and somewhat sweet. It can be lethal to your stomach if you don't eat. . . just like any other alcohol. Not to mention how quick it hits the bloodstream and, bam! It knocks all the sense out of that so-called brain you have.

Drunk, Bob tried to pick a fight with the rival fraternity guys. Luckily I knew some of them and made gestures. They let it go as I dragged him away. Bob stumbled more so than walked. As I tried to support him, I almost wound up in a pile on the ground with him. All of a sudden, the fresh air hit him. He just leaned over and . . . yes. . .he vomited all over the place!

Jeez, Louise! This can't get any worse. That was it for me!

"Take me home."

"Okay," Bob responded.

"Let me drive," I said as I held out my hand for his car keys.

"No, no one drives my car but me."

"You're drunk. You just threw up. Please let me drive."

"I'm okay."

I begged him over and over to let me drive home, but he refused. It was his car. He was driving it home. I wished there had been other people I knew to ride home with that night.

His driving was okay until the fateful moment when he turned to me and said, "I want to sleep with you tonight. I don't want to do anything. Just sleep with you." I don't know if it was the look of utter shock on my face or the fact he wasn't watching where he was going that much. . . but the next thing I know is wham!

Bob's car hit something and stalled. Crap! Just what I need to be out in the middle of nowhere with that roach clip swinging back and forth.

As he opens his door, he turns to me and says, "Can you check to see if you see anything from your side?"

"Sure."

He had driven off the road and into a ditch. Of course, I didn't know it was a ditch until I got out of the car to check what had happened. One minute I was in the car and the next I was lying in a ditch! He had hit a fallen tree branch. Still, he refused to let me drive and insisted he was okay.

Luckily, as we continued to discuss his ability to drive, some of the guys from the fraternity pulled up behind his car. I pulled Ed off to the side and quietly explained the situation. Ed knew it wasn't safe to let Bob continue to drive.

Ed joined Bob as he looked under the hood to see why the car wouldn't start. While Bob turned away, Ed unhooked the distributor cap. Bob tried and tried to start that car. Finally, Ed suggested that we ride with them.

We all piled into that car. I had to sit on Bob's lap because the car already had six passengers. What a dream date! Him reeking of alcohol and vomit, and I get the pleasure of sitting on his lap for almost 30 minutes back to my apartment. The only consolation was that Ed was sober.

We arrived at my apartment. I thanked Ed for the ride home. Bob was ready to stumble from the car to walk me to my door. I quickly said, "It's okay," and shut the door before he could get out of the vehicle.

The next day Bob came knocking at my door! I couldn't believe that he had the nerve to show up like that after all that happened. I let Bob in to see what he wanted. He couldn't figure out what had happened to his car. "The distributor cap was unhooked. Do you know anything about that?"

Ignorance is bliss. I definitely didn't want to cause Ed any grief for looking out for Bob and me, so I played dumb. I said, "No, I didn't even know what a distributor cap was or where it was located. How do you know someone disconnected it?"

"It won't run unless it is connected."

"I see," still refusing to admit that I knew anything. Bob left. It was the last time we spoke.

Bob never found out what really happened. I never went out with him again. He was too afraid to ask me! I saw him at other fraternity functions. Bob found someone more suited for him: she enjoyed being just as drunk and high as he was! Another accident just waiting to happen!